One Broke Girl

by Rhonda Helms

  Bianca, wearing yoga pants and a scruffy T-shirt, swept the hair from my eyes and looked at me in concern. “How you doing, honey? Natalie told me—I hope you don’t mind.”

  I sipped my wine, shrugged. “Eh. Feeling like dog crap. Horribly guilty. But I know it was the right thing to do.” As I settled back into the couch and Natalie took a seat in the chair across from me, holding two plates laden with pizza bites, I said, “I’d rather talk about you guys right now, if you don’t mind.”

  Bianca rolled her eyes. “Oh man. Not sure you want to hear my sordid tale of woe.” She chugged her wine glass then refilled from the half-empty bottle on the table.

  Despite her protests, she filled us in on her latest drama. She’d met this guy, had an amazing night of sex and then the next morning he’d basically treated her like an expensive call girl.

  “He had this routine down to an art. I woke up and found him already dressed, breakfast made and on a bedside tray, my clothes laid out and ready for me to get the hell out of his place.” She sighed. “Too bad, because he had an amazing tongue.”

  Natalie smothered a laugh. “At least you’re getting some. I don’t remember the last time West and I had sex. I feel like I’ve regrown my hymen.”

  “It’s been over two months for me,” I said. Then I thought about Gavin’s fingers stroking me earlier today, and my face flamed.

  Bianca raised a brow. Damn, that girl didn’t miss anything. “Just kissing, huh?”

  I swallowed down the rest of my drink then refilled. The gentle glow from the wine made my limbs more liquid and seeped the tension from my back. “Okay, maybe a little more,” I admitted then paused. “Did I do the right thing, breaking it off with Steven? I feel like I did, but now I’m wondering if I was foolish to choose independence over security.”

  “What good is security if it means you’re indebted to someone?” Bianca pointed out. “Is that really security, or is it a cage?”

  Huh. Interesting perspective.

  Natalie nodded and chewed on a pizza bite. “You have pride. Nothing wrong with that—I have it too. You deserve better than to just be a trophy wife. And how bored would you be, sitting around the house all day, doing nothing but looking pretty and shopping? But in the end, only you can know if you made the right decision. We support you either way, you know.”

  Bianca reached over and squeezed my hand.

  I gave both of them impulsive hugs. “Thanks, guys.”

  “Besides,” Bianca added with a wicked smile, “it sounds like Gavin helped cement the decision for you with your dirty extracurricular activities. God, I’m jealous.” She twirled her hair, and her eyes glazed over for a moment. “I think you should sleep with him, just to make sure you chose the right guy.” I rolled my eyes, and she chortled. “Hey, penis size is very important.”

  “I’ve forgotten what a penis looks like,” Natalie said with a moan.

  Bianca turned her attention to Natalie with a raised brow. “Speaking of deserving better—”

  “I don’t want to go down that road again,” Natalie warned, cutting her off. She curled back in her seat and rested her feet on the cushion then wrapped her arms around her legs. “I know how you feel about West, but I care about him. We’re trying to make it work. We’re just having problems right now. I need advice on how to get us back on track.”

  “Are you guys spending a lot of time together?” I asked. “What are your date nights like?”

  She scrunched her face, deep in thought. “We haven’t been doing much together lately. He’s been super busy with work—his dad owns a car dealership, and West has been promoted to head of sales. I don’t want to put more pressure on him when he’s dealing with extra hours and extra stress.”

  Bianca bit her lip and shook her head but said nothing. Her face was clear though. She thought Natalie was getting the short end of the stick.

  “I don’t know a lot about your relationship,” I started slowly, “so I can’t make assumptions on what’s happening with you. But if you’re not happy, you need to tell him you want to spend more time with him. You’re super supportive of everyone, but it shouldn’t be at the expense of your own happiness.”

  She nodded, and her exhale was drawn out and loud. “I know. You’re right. I’m just afraid to rock the boat.”

  “Doing something when we’re afraid is the best way to conquer those fears,” I said. “And you know you have our support.”

  Natalie’s eyes teared up, and she sniffled. “Thanks, guys.” The oven dinged, and she jumped off the chair. “Time for round two of snacks. And drink up, because we have a shitload of wine chilling in the fridge.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Worst. Friday. Ever.

  I had a fringe of a headache from a lovely hangover, courtesy of Natalie’s extensive wine selection. We’d destroyed at least a bottle each then had a couple of shots of cheap whiskey to toast ourselves. Not my best idea. At least the bulk of the hangover had faded away earlier this morning. I’d indulged in a sausage breakfast biscuit and coffee from a fast food joint; the grease had helped fight off the yucks.

  The chicken fingers I was serving right now looked a little limp, which turned my stomach, though kids were destroying them like their lives depended on it. Mrs. Portwell was in a crappy mood and had barked at me earlier for not serving food fast enough. It had been tempting to give her a snotty military salute, except I needed this job and couldn’t afford to piss off my boss. So I’d smothered my irritation and sped up.

  But the pièce de résistance in my crappy Friday was that Gavin hadn’t looked over at me once. In fact, he’d stayed with his class on the opposite side of the cafeteria, eyes fixed on his students. The wide smile on his face didn’t quite meet his eyes, and he looked a bit strained.

  He hadn’t responded to my text yesterday. Or to the one I’d sent this morning asking again if we could talk. Either I’d hurt his feelings or he was having serious regrets about yesterday’s makeout session. Had I blown it by canceling our date? Or had he decided it was better this way?

  Everything had gone so wrong, so fast.

  “Can I have extra broccoli?” a girl asked me. She held out her plate and shot me a gap-toothed smile.

  “Sure.” Mrs. Portwell hadn’t said anything about double servings, but I didn’t want to piss her off more. So I subtly scooped and dumped more broccoli on the pile already there.

  “Thank you!” Her skip through the rest of the line was boisterous.

  “No problem,” I murmured at her retreating figure. It was hard to smile when I felt like my heart was breaking apart. But I made myself try. Kept the face on so people wouldn’t know how awful I felt.

  For the next half hour, I served students. The cafeteria slowly emptied until the only people left were the cafeteria workers. It looked like Gavin had slipped out sometime while I’d been serving, not one word or a glance my way. God, I missed talking to him, missed the budding closeness we’d been creating over the last month.

  Funny how fast he’d become a staple in my life. How I’d grown to crave those moments of stolen conversation as he herded a kid or two through the lunch line. It didn’t even matter what we talked about, so long as we were talking.

  I needed to reach out to him, but now was not the appropriate time. Not when we were working. It was difficult to focus on cleaning up the serving stations then move to the back and scrub countertops. But I did my job and finished up.

  Mrs. Portwell appeared from the hallway as I was putting away the cleaning supplies. “Anna.”

  I stood and faced her, a little nervous about getting yelled at again. Maybe she saw my extra scoop for the broccoli and was going to chew me out of it. “Yes?”

  She shifted from foot to foot then said in her usual gruff tone, “I apologize. I’ve had a bad morning, and I didn’t mean to take it out on you. You’ve been doing a great job. Keep up the good work. Next week, I’d like to get started on training you in food prep as well. You’ve caught
on fast, and we want to give you more hours.”

  My eyes widened. “Um, sure. Yeah, that sounds perfect. Thanks.”

  With a curt nod, she walked off, her round hips swaying in her plain brown pleated pants.

  Well, that had been unexpected. But it helped ease a touch of the tension in my chest and raised my spirits a bit. At least I hadn’t ticked her off. Glad I’d resisted being a smartass.

  I donned my warm winter coat and left the cafeteria, waving goodbye to the other workers and heading down the hallway. The temptation to go by Gavin’s classroom was too strong to resist. I stopped right before his door and peeked in. The class was sitting on the rug as he talked to them, holding up words and having the class read out loud.

  He looked so in his element, confident and collected. The thought that I might have lost his affection made my head ache and my heart cramp. I stepped past the door before I could do something dumb like rush in his classroom and beg for him to kiss me. I didn’t need to embarrass myself that badly.

  No, I’d go see him tonight. After work. Give him a chance to unwind, eat dinner, then swing by his house and…hell, I guess beg for him to kiss me.

  The air was so cold it stole the breath from my lungs. I dug a knit cap from my bag and popped it on then crammed my hands in my pockets. I’d forgotten my gloves at home, so I was going to have cold hands on my bike ride.

  Sure could use a car right about now. I was growing a bit nervous about how long it was taking to finalize the condo sale. We needed that money soon, because we weren’t going to make it much longer without it. Where was Mom hiding, and when would she reappear?

  The ride to the house was as chilly as I’d expected. My fingers were frozen numb on the handlebars. I stopped every few minutes and blew on them. With an overcast sky and icy breezes, it was a dreary trek. I wanted to stop and get a coffee, but I could make a cup at home to warm me up.

  I dropped the bike in the garage and hustled inside. “Dad, I’m home!” I called out. He’d told me earlier today he was working in the morning, so he should be home now.

  “I’m in here,” he called from the living room. His voice sounded strangely upbeat.

  With caution, I proceeded to the room. Dad had changed into a pair of relaxed jeans and black sweater, and he was holding a white ceramic mug of coffee. His face was clean-shaven. He looked…good, rested, less stressed. The bags weren’t as prominent under his eyes.

  “Thirsty? There’s a pot in the kitchen, freshly brewed,” he said with an open smile.

  “You read my mind,” I said on a blissful sigh. I walked in and poured a hot mug, taking a deep breath to pull in a lungful of the rich scent. Then I dumped a crap-ton of sugar and milk in it—Dad always teased me about how I ruined it that way—and sat down beside him on the couch. “So, you’re in a decent mood,” I ventured before I sipped.

  He nodded. “Surprisingly, I am. I heard from your mom today.”

  I stiffened then forced myself to say in a light voice, “Oh? What happened?” My heart began a thunderous race.

  Dad took a moment to drink his coffee and settle back in the corner of the couch. He eyed me over his mug. “She called me, actually. We talked for a half hour and sorted out a lot of important stuff.”

  “Where is she?”

  “Back in New York City. She signed off on the sale of the condo, so we’re good to go. I’m flying in this weekend to finalize the paperwork on everything else.”

  Relief hit me in a strong whoosh. “Good timing,” I murmured. “I was just wondering about all of that. Now we can get a car.”

  Dad’s eyes turned sad, and he reached over and rubbed my back. “Honey, I’m so sorry your life got turned upside down, that you got dragged into our marriage issues.” A tinge of grief seeped through his voice. “You should never have had to go without.”

  I put my mug down and shifted in my seat to face him. “You know what? It’s okay. I grew up a lot because of what happened. I learned more about who I am in these last two months than I knew from twenty-one years of existence. I’m strong. I’m resilient. I can survive anything.” Tears flew to my eyes, and I let them flow down my cheeks. “I think you’ve learned the same things too.”

  He nodded, put his mug down, then squeezed me in a tight hug. “She wants to talk to you,” he whispered in my hair. “She told me her new number and asked if you’d give her a call.”

  I leaned into his embrace, rubbed his back. “I’m surprised. I thought she’d forgotten who I was.” There was more than a little bitterness in my voice.

  He pulled back, and sympathy rang clear in his eyes. “You have every right to be upset with your mother. If you don’t want to talk to her, that’s your decision and I support you. But you might feel better if you do. It could help you start to get closure on the whole thing.”

  “I don’t know how to stop being so angry,” I whispered, my throat hoarse. “What did you say to her?”

  He sighed, and his shoulders hunched over a little. “That she was selfish and she broke my heart, leaving us like that. That I’m still angry with her and it’s going to take me a long time to get past her betrayal.” He paused. “And I probably won’t ever be able to forgive her for treating you this way.”

  I sniffled. His honesty and his bluntness made me feel better, strangely enough. He wasn’t lying in bed, feeling sorry for himself. No, he was here, facing the truth, not letting it break him. Dad was starting to heal. If he could do it, I could do it too.

  I owed it to both of us.

  He grabbed a piece of paper off the coffee table and handed it to me. “Here’s her phone number.” Then he stood, stroked my hair and went into his room.

  I stared at the number scrawled on the paper, which shook in my hands. All this time I’d been searching and now it was here, my chance to confront her. My chest tingled and my lips and fingertips grew numb.

  I was scared. Angry. Afraid of her hurting me again.

  But I was going to face her and tell her exactly how I felt. She needed to know.

  Before I could talk myself out of it, I dialed. The phone rang twice, and then my mom’s words filled my ear. “Hello? Anna?”

  The sound of her voice broke the dam. I burst into sudden tears, sobs racking my body. I dropped my head in my free hand and clutched the phone with the other.

  “Oh God, honey,” she said, her voice breaking, and I heard her start to cry too. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I hurt you like this.” She repeated it over and over again through her weeping.

  After a couple of minutes, my tears faded and anger filled the gaping hole in my chest. “How could you do that?” I demanded in a watery voice. “You left me. You left Dad. I just… I don’t even know what to say to you.” I gripped the phone so tight my knuckles ached.

  Mom’s sigh was heavy, filled with sorrow. “I know. I want to explain.” There was a long pause on her end, and then she said, “I got a call yesterday from some guy in Edgewood Falls looking for me. Apparently he was a PI who’d found me through a credit card transaction. It was then that I realized I had to stop running, that I needed to own up and face you and your father.”

  So Kyle had come through after all. I’d have to make sure to thank him for a job well done.

  I heard a rustling sound in the background. “It was wrong for me to leave that way,” Mom continued. “But I had to go. I was so unhappy.” She sniffled. “I don’t expect you to understand, and that’s okay. I’m going to try to explain anyway. I felt trapped. Alone. Carrying the weight of supporting our whole family so you could go to school and your father could do his art. It got to be too much.”

  A touch of guilt twisted my stomach. I’d figured that would be the reason. “As strange as it might sound, I do understand that,” I grudgingly told her. If nothing else, my time in Edgewood Falls had taught me a valuable lesson about life and money.

  “I felt like my light was dying out,” Mom said in a quiet voice. “I dreaded coming home after work. I found myse
lf staying at the office longer and longer.”

  “Why didn’t you tell Dad any of this?”

  “I tried. Kinda. But not well enough, obviously. A coworker of mine was going through the same thing in his marriage—his wife always seemed to take and take from him. We were drawn to each other because of our situations. The conversations were innocent at first, but over time we fell in love.” She exhaled, and I heard her shuffle the phone. “The morning I left, he told me he’d served his wife with divorce papers and asked me to run away with him. So I did. It was my first impulsive decision in…I don’t even know how long.”

  Anger exploded in my chest. “Is that what you thought of me, that I did nothing but take and take?”

  Her reply was calm. “Honestly? Yes, that’s what I felt in the moment, right or wrong. I know you aren’t happy about hearing it, but I want to tell you the truth. I felt used.”

  My throat tightened with suppressed tears. I was done crying over her. I sat in silence and let her continue.

  “Being with him, I realized I wanted to follow my own dreams. To live life unencumbered, free. To feel special and desired for more than just how much money I make.”

  The raw pain in her voice stung me. It also confirmed I’d made the right decision with Steven. How long would it have taken before he’d started to resent me like this, too?

  “I get that,” I said. “But you didn’t need to leave us impoverished. It was cruel.” My voice broke on the last word, and I sucked back in my emotions. Struggled for control.

  “I know. I’m ashamed of how I behaved. I was so angry that I wanted to punish your father. And, in a way, you. You’re both adults, but you were living off my hard work. No thanks, no real appreciation.”

  Yowch. That hurt. But it was a fair point, if harsh. “I’m sorry,” I said, and I meant it. I was still mad as hell at her, but I could admit my faults in this. Even if just for my own emotional and mental health.

  Mom sighed. “It was the wrong way to handle it. I returned half the money to your account this morning, so you guys should be okay now. Your father is flying here tomorrow so we can remove me from the bank account and finalize the divorce papers, the condo sale and all other loose ends.”